


meticulously pieced together and utterly thought through

by radishface



Series: Chapter X [3]
Category: K-pop, NU'EST, Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Angry Sex, M/M, Movie Stars, Multi, PWP, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Threesome, Unrequited Love, jonghyun is mad, minhyun is confused, ong is a bit not good here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-03-21 00:16:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13729077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/radishface/pseuds/radishface
Summary: In which Jonghyun hurts for Minhyun and Minhyun hurts for Jonghyun and Seongwoo somehow finds himself in the middle.Updated: Four-shot. Set 7 years after Wanna One disbands.1 | how it started | Ong2hyun2 | how it started, before | Ongbugi3 | how it actually started | OngHwang4 | but what happened back then | 2hyun





	1. how it started

 

 

The apartment door is slightly ajar. Jonghyun pushes it open. There's a figure in the kitchen, elbow-deep in soap suds, but it's not Minhyun.

 

"Seongwoo," Jonghyun says.

 

When Seongwoo turns around, he doesn't seem particularly surprised to see Jonghyun there. Minhyun must have told Seongwoo that Jonghyun would stop by. Jonghyun wonders where Minhyun is.

 

"Minhyun’s not here," Seongwoo says, as if reading his mind, and turns back to the sink. He looks comfortable in Minhyun’s kitchen—too comfortable. Wearing Minhyun’s rubber gloves and putting his fingers on his ceramic mugs.

 

Seongwoo’s mobile rings from down the hall. He gestures over to it with his chin. “Get that, will you? It’s in my coat.” Holds up his hands by way of explanation, bubbles frothing over the pink rubber. As if it excuses him from his imperious tone. As if the place is his. Jonghyun bristles.

 

Jonghyun lets it ring once, then twice more. Seongwoo makes no move to take off the gloves and answer it himself. Jonghyun sulks into the hallway and picks up the mobile mid-ring.

 

"Hello?" comes a familiar mellow tone. Jonghyun puts the phone to his ear. "Hello...? Seongwoo?"

 

Minhyun.

 

"Hello," Jonghyun says. "Seongwoo can't come to the phone right now." Some vague notion of decent behavior edges into the forefront of his mind and he follows up, "he can call you back."

 

"Jonghyun?"

 

"Minhyun."

 

There is silence and the crackle of the line. It’s been a long time. He was just stopping by. Minhyun had penned some lyrics on paper. Jonghyun told him, no worries, no need to scan them—I’ll swing by later today. Any excuse to see Minhyun again, after so long. And now Minhyun isn’t here.

 

"Did you need something from Seongwoo?" Jonghyun asks, trying to sound as cool, as nonchalant as possible.

 

This time he can hear Minhyun breathing.

 

"Yes," Minhyun says. "Yes, there was something."

 

Jonghyun senses Seongwoo behind him in the moment before he rests his chin on Jonghyun’s shoulder. He smells of dish soap, and something heavier. "Don't hang up," Seongwoo murmurs.

 

"What—what are you doing?" Jonghyun stiffens and hunches his shoulders. Seongwoo’s chin lifts with the movement.

 

"Nothing," Seongwoo says, but his arms have snaked around Jonghyun’s torso and he’s peeling his coat off him. Jonghyun shudders despite himself.

 

"What are you doing?" Minhyun asks. It's anticipatory, not accusatory. "Tell me. Is Seongwoo—is he doing something—to you?"

 

Seongwoo’s hand tucks itself into the waistband of Jonghyun’s jeans. The other cups him where he is hard and then begins to work his belt loose.

 

"Is this what you both do now?" He tries to growl it, but his voice hiccups. Minhyun’s breath hitches. “Is this why he’s here?”

 

"Don’t hang up," Minhyun says, fuzzy and far away. "Tell me what’s happening."

 

Jonghyun takes two deep breaths. "His hands," he says, horrified at what they are doing.

 

"Be good," Seongwoo whispers, and unzips Jonghyun’s pants.

 

"Good," Minhyun echoes. He sighs and the line crackles in Jonghyun’s ear.

 

Seongwoo turns him around. He leans in as though he is going to press his lips to his mouth. Instead, Seongwoo speaks into the receiver. "I'm going to suck his dick."

 

Jonghyun makes a noise under his breath. He thinks it's meant to dissuade.

 

"Just relax and enjoy it when he does that," Minhyun says, by way of encouragement. “Seongwoo is very good.”

 

Jonghyun’s ears burn. He wishes he could drop the handset, but then he would be left alone with Seongwoo and his mouth and no Minhyun.

 

"Do you want me to do that?" Seongwoo croons, slipping his fingers into Jonghyun’s underwear. They are cool and soft against his overheated flesh, and he jerks at the contact. "Huh? Want me to suck you off?"

 

Seongwoo lowers his voice and in a whisper, so the microphone can’t pick up—“want to pretend it’s _him_?”

 

Jonghyun shivers all over, skin prickling.

 

"You have to tell me if that's what you want," Seongwoo says. His voice lilts in a tease.

 

Jonghyun could swing them around and catch Seongwoo under his jaw, then hang up, then walk out of the flat, and that would be that. Instead, an impulse beyond his control makes him say “yes, I do.”

 

He can tell Minhyun is holding his breath.

 

Seongwoo gets to his knees. He is no less a threat for it.

 

"What are you doing?" Minhyun says. "Tell me. Don't hang up."

 

"Do it," Jonghyun barks, desperate to get the vulgar idea out of his mouth and out of his head. They ring in his ears instead. "Seongwoo, do it."

 

Minhyun's breath shudders into the receiver in static bursts. Jonghyun wonders if that is how he sounds when they are. When he and Seongwoo are.

 

Seongwoo smiles with teeth and touches the head of Jonghyun’s cock with the very tip of his tongue. Jonghyun snags his free hand in his hair and tries to make no sound at all.

 

"Just relax and do what your precious Minhyun tells you," Seongwoo murmurs, as he takes Jonghyun in his mouth. Jonghyun forces himself to keep his eyes open and glares down at him. Jonghyun leaves his hand lax against Seongwoo’s scalp, lets it ride back and forth as he moves his head.

 

“Do you like it?” Minhyun is breathing audibly into the receiver. “Tell me if you like it, Jonghyunnie. Tell me if you do.”

 

Jonghyun closes his eyes and then imagines it is Minhyun’s mouth on him. Seongwoo sucks harder and Jonghyun means to grunt, but it comes out like Minhyun's name.

 

From the telephone, a helpless sound.

 

Jonghyun opens his eyes in time to see Seongwoo pull his lips back, smirking. He scrapes Jonghyun with bared teeth; it makes Jonghyun convulse and spill onto Seongwoo’s lips in wracking, bitter spurts.

 

Seongwoo stands, spits into one hand and hangs up with the other.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m pretty sure I’d ship Seongwoo x Minhyun if I didn’t ship 2hyun and OngNiel. This is, I suppose, one way to make something happen between SW and MH without totally betraying my OTPs. 
> 
> Happy Sunday everyone! 
> 
> **Time to write:** 1 hour 30 minutes  
>  _If you liked this one-shot, please consider leaving kudos or a comment! Writing is a labor of love and your support keeps us contributing to the fandom._ ♥


	2. how it started, before

Hwang Minhyun and Kim Doyeon had split. That was the gossip circling around at the MAMA Awards in Hong Kong that fall. When Jonghyun heard the news pass his ears he wondered what had done it. Someone said that someone from the same agency had come between them. Someone else from Fantagio.

 

Jonghyun didn’t know if he could MC that night so he let JR lead the announcements and read off the teleprompter.

 

  
#

 

  
It had been five years since Nu’est disbanded. Aaron was hosting his own cooking channel on broadcast television and Minki moved on to become a fashion correspondent for Vogue Korea and was involved with an heiress twenty years his senior which thank god kept him fed and clothed. Dongho was still producing for Pledis and would be as long as Bumzu and Woozi were still there.

 

Minhyun’s schedule exploded after Nu’est disbanded and Jonghyun’s did too but it was different. Jonghyun’s schedule was full of local color and variety hosting opportunities while Minhyun was getting callbacks for the big screen and guest starring in dramas directed by award-winning teams. And it wasn’t as if Jonghyun had ever wanted a slice of Korea’s attempt at blockbuster Hollywood but it did mean that he and Minhyun saw each other less until it was just a dinner after three months and then six and then nine and then nothing at all.

 

There was one time when Minhyun reached for his hand over kalbi. He held it and told Jonghyun that he missed the old days, and Jonghyun’s heart had jumped into his throat thinking that now, _now, finally_. They had gone home together that night and kindled into each other’s bodies like wildfire. Happiness weighed heavy on Jonghyun because his desperate self knew that it would only go until something happened.

 

Sure enough they were spotted going into a hotel and both their managers called them the next morning sick to death asking what the hell was going on. That morning Jonghyun got up out of bed and told Minhyun in so many words that you couldn’t go home again and left the hotel room feeling like his heart had been ripped out of his soul.

 

In a rush to fix the tabloid situation Minhyun had been set up with Kim Doyeon who had been implicated in a scandal of her own involving a married hedge fund manager and Jonghyun slunk back into celibate obscurity until management told him he could emerge. Somehow a bandaid for the scandal became a real thing and Doyeon and Minhyun endured on and on. Right at the year two mark they were posting selfies together at Disneyland Tokyo and the dailies were all over it.

 

An engagement wasn’t far off. He was happy for Minhyun, he really was. Happily ever after.

 

  
#

 

  
The next he heard, Hwang Minhyun and Ong Seongwoo were in Shanghai, shooting the finale for _The Hill Doctor_. They did a broadcast from Minhyun’s hotel suite to tease the finale and there was something in the way Seongwoo looked at Minhyun and leaned into him that put Jonghyun on edge.

 

He and Minhyun had been to Shanghai before, during the height of their Nu’est days. But that was old news.

 

Old news.

 

  
#

 

  
Sometime after Minhyun and Doyeon’s breakup, Dongho had told him that Minhyun was writing lyrics again and that Dongho was supposed to set them to music but Minhyun wasn’t picking up his phone.

 

Jonghyun knew both of them had PAs but something about the situation jumped out at him and he said, I’ll get them. Feeling like a crazed person he had said I’ll get them and Dongho laughed in his face.

 

Dongho didn’t care for the tabloids, with the way he carried on. He declined all appearances and kept strictly to the back of the house. He had gained some weight around his middle and carried it well, just like he carried well the gossip that he was carrying on with idols past present and future. None of it perturbed him.

 

“I’m not front of house anymore,” he said proudly. “And I don’t read those damn blogs.”

 

It was the kind of freedom that Jonghyun ached for. He didn’t know that he would find it in Seongwoo’s mouth in Minhyun’s empty apartment with Minhyun’s breathless voice in his ear. He left the apartment feeling hot and ashamed but like he could have both worlds. If he could be like this in the shadows then it was as close as the kind of freedom Dongho told him about.

 

It made him hate himself but he knew he needed it again.

 

  
#

 

  
_This is Seongwoo,_ the text read, three days after he’d left Minhyun’s flat with the lyrics in hand.

 

 _Prove it_ , Jonghyun texted back.

 

_Your cum tastes like cotton candy._

 

He thought about taking a screenshot. What it would be like to ruin Seongwoo forever. Then he remembered who it was that Seongwoo was texting.

 

 _Fuck you_.

 

_Wanna?_

 

  
#

 

  
What followed was quite simple:

 

(1) Jonghyun ordered a beer at a bar ten minutes away from Seongwoo’s apartment.

 

(2) Buzzed with courage, Jonghyun rang up to Seongwoo’s apartment. Seongwoo opened the door looking so on edge, so miserable himself that Jonghyun told him to sit down and have a drink too.

 

(3) Two bottles of soju later Seongwoo was saying things like, Minhyun still likes you. Minhyun doesn’t stop talking about you and Jonghyun was groaning and pressing himself with the heel of his hand because he couldn’t help it. The more he groaned and pushed the wilder Seongwoo’s words became until Jonghyun was a strung up rag doll version swaying in the story that Seongwoo was telling him.

 

(4) Then Seongwoo was saying things like Minhyun never wanted to leave but you were too chicken shit because all you can do is fuck people you don’t care about. So Jonghyun kissed him to shut him up and hauled him off the barstool and backed him against the refrigerator, undoing his belt.

 

(5) In Seongwoo’s pocket was a bottle of lube and the whole thing disgusted and turned Jonghyun on so thoroughly he kicked Seongwoo’s legs out from under him. Seongwoo slid to the floor in a dazed crumple and finally he stopped talking. He was looking at Jonghyun with something like fear and want.

 

(6) Jonghyun slicked himself up and Seongwoo turned around to offer himself. Jonghyun pushed Seongwoo’s head to the floor to make him eat dust. The both of them drowned in the smell of alcohol and wishing they were with someone else.

 

#

 

It wasn’t hard to be careful when you knew what you were doing and when your head was clear. Visits to Seongwoo’s apartment happened after midnight only. Taxis dropped Jonghyun off a block away. He would walk the rest of the way, hood turned up and cap turned down. It was a way he knew like the back of his hand.

 

He wasn’t sure why Seongwoo was doing this and reasoned it away as Seongwoo was full of some kind of hurt himself and somehow this was a convenient arrangement for him too. Jonghyun was fine to let himself take the brunt of it because Seongwoo’s career could fend for itself. But he didn’t want any of this filth to touch Minhyun which was why he hadn’t called or texted Minhyun back after the episode with the lyrics.

 

Seongwoo was in the middle of a phone call when Jonghyun walked in.

 

“What happened?”

 

“Show cancelled.” Seongwoo slammed the phone down on the counter. “Fucking show cancellation, that’s what happened.”

 

Jonghyun didn’t know the full scope of it and didn’t want to because that was Seongwoo’s own cross to bear. But he was filled with sudden pity because he knew that Seongwoo was struggling as much as he was.

 

They drank that night as they usually did and this time Jonghyun let Seongwoo ride him hard and even though he took no pleasure in it there was some kind of satisfaction from letting himself be used this way.

 

  
#

 

  
He and Minhyun both came to visit Dongho on the same day. Jonghyun was supposed to take Dongho to lunch but Dongho had been recording music to Minhyun’s song. Dongho’s PA said that Dongho was up there with someone but Jonghyun could go right on ahead. And if Jonghyun had known it were Minhyun he would have cancelled lunch and rescheduled but here he was and he had been spotted.

 

“Sit down,” Dongho pointed him to a empty chair. “We’ll be done in a minute.”

 

“Jonghyun,” Minhyun acknowledged, his voice cold and his eyes hot.

 

The song went something fierce and Jonghyun was near tears. It had a piece of Minhyun in it. After Dongho played the track through and through Jonghyun’s head felt as though it would crack open. He left the room and ran down the stairs to the receptionist and asked her for two aspirin which he dry-swallowed.

 

Dongho came downstairs fifteen minutes later with Minhyun, both of them in long coats. “Did you drive here,” Dongho barked at him.

 

“No. My driver’s around the corner.”

 

“Tell him to scram. You’re both coming with me. I got a new Porsche and I wanna test the balance with three.”

 

“Minhyun—?” Jonghyun’s eyes flashed to Minhyun’s and then back at Dongho.

 

“Yeah, I invited him too. What, you wanted to tell me your secrets or something?”

 

“No,” Jonghyun kept his voice light. “Minhyun, it’s been a while.”

 

“It has,” Minhyun said, and slipped on his sunglasses.

 

It was a two-door gleaming silver Porsche, shined to a T, and the backseat built like an afterthought. Jonghyun and Minhyun looked uneasily at it.

 

“You can take the front,” Jonghyun said.

 

“No, no, it’s quite all right,” Minhyun parried.

 

“Rock paper scissors,” Dongho said. “Come on, you pussies.”

 

Jonghyun and Minhyun tied three times in a row and on the fourth Jonghyun won. He chose the backseat anyway.

 

Thankfully Dongho talked most of the time. He talked about his projects and about how Bumzu was getting hard to work with in his older age and how Woozi was planning to leave Pledis but don’t tell anyone otherwise Woozi would kill him. Jonghyun and Minhyun promised not to. It was the first time they had made a promise like that in the same place at the same time together and when they did their eyes met and Minhyun smiled at Jonghyun, eyes crinkling in the corners as he blinked in his attempt to wink. In that moment he was the old soul that Jonghyun knew he had wanted to be with since he knew it at seventeen. Jonghyun smiled back but he was cursing a storm in his head. Why did I ever have to meet you, why did I ever have to love you, why did I ever have to be born, why did God put you in front of me when I can’t have you out in the open.

 

Seongwoo texted him that night but it wasn’t going to happen. Jonghyun slept fitfully.

 

  
#

 

  
The next time they met Seongwoo was pliant and sighing and it made Jonghyun go frustrated and then soft. It was obvious Seongwoo’s head was somewhere else entirely so Jonghyun aborted his attempt halfway through feeling his dick sag as the animal urge bled out of him like the bottom of a leaking bag. He pulled on his pants with an angry jerking motion and ventured into the kitchen to eat something because the hunger was still in him and he needed to satisfy it somehow.

 

Seongwoo followed him naked. From behind the refrigerator door Jonghyun heard Seongwoo sighing. He looked inside a takeout container to find it had Chinese dumplings in it and shut the door. Halfway into the container Seongwoo spoke up.

 

“What happened between you and Minhyun is none of my business,” Seongwoo said, and Jonghyun didn’t want to do this or talk about this but Seongwoo was in a talking mood tonight. “But have you ever thought you might be better off being honest with him than being here with me?”

 

“Too risky,” Jonghyun said curtly, mouth full of old meat and congealed fat.

 

“What’s risky? You’ll catch feelings?”

 

“I’m eating, Seongwoo.”

 

“You want me to shut up, right?”

 

Jonghyun kept chewing.

 

“That’s rich, Jonghyun. You don’t think I know it too? What it’s like to catch feelings?”

 

“If you really knew it,” Jonghyun said, “you wouldn’t be here with me. You’d have figured out your own shit.”

 

“Thanks to you, I’m definitely learning what my shit is,” Seongwoo said. “We’re the same.”

 

Jonghyun slammed the chopsticks down on the counter because no, no, no. His moral philosophy and Seongwoo’s were diametrically opposed. That was the only way he could fuck Seongwoo and Seongwoo could fuck him and he could leave Seongwoo’s apartment feeling clean instead of dirty.

 

“Who else are you with? Besides me. Besides Minhyun.”

 

“Why so curious?”

 

“No reason,” Jonghyun said, feeling sick.

 

“That’s not your real question,” Seongwoo narrows his eyes. “You want to know why Minhyun’s wasting his time with me. Okay, I’ll tell you if you answer me this. Why are _you_  wasting your time?”

 

“You’re available.”

 

“Fuck you, Kim Jonghyun. I know what you want me to say. It’s the same fucking shit that gets you off every time. Minhyun wants you. He can’t get over you. He’s just waiting for you to get your shit together and has been for the last ten years. Except that you’re not getting your shit together so he’s moving on. Okay? He’s moving on.”

 

“You tell him about us?” Jonghyun wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “You tell him what we do?”

 

“So what if I do?” Seongwoo took a step back. “I’m just available, right?”

 

“You don’t know jack shit about what happened between us. You don’t get to talk about it.”

 

“Jonghyun, I’m an actor. Unlike you, I’m a fucking good one. I get paid to read between the lines. I don’t need to read a fucking tabloid to figure out what happened between you two or why you’re both with me. The only question is what happens to you when I go away.”

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Jonghyun said, and pushed Seongwoo back against the wall, spitting in his hand and slicking them both up. Seongwoo suppressed a grunt of surprise and a moan of pleasure and let himself mouth absently at Jonghyun’s jaw. He leaned back against the wall and Jonghyun leaned into him, spreading his legs for balance and steadying himself with his hands in Seongwoo’s hair. In the haze of desire that returned to him Jonghyun decided he liked Seongwoo’s cock—it was long and slim and slick and was pushing against his hand nice and deliberately like planned.

 

“Don’t think I don’t know something about you,” Jonghyun said through his teeth into Seongwoo’s ear. “Don’t think I don’t know about the way you are with Daniel.”

 

At the mention of Daniel’s name Seongwoo’s knees gave way.

 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you think about when you’re with me,” Jonghyun said. “ Don’t think I don’t know that this is what you’re missing from him.”

 

“Shut up,” Seongwoo hissed, his resentment immediate and fierce as he looped his arms around Jonghyun’s neck and spun them both back into the bedroom, struggling and wrestling each other to be on top. Jonghyun slicked two of his fingers into Seongwoo’s ass and crooked his fingers and Seongwoo unfurled and arched his back. Jonghyun thought of Kang Daniel and how Kang Daniel was and how he might be if he were here and poured that into the moment. Jonghyun did it to Seongwoo slowly, making each thrust of his cock last, watching Seongwoo’s face flush and his moans turn to desperate pleas as he begged for Jonghyun, as he begged for Daniel, as he begged to be fucked faster and deeper.

 

“There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him, is there,” Jonghyun said, switching his rhythm to dick Seongwoo in violent staccato pulses. “You’d take it from him just like this. Any way that he wanted.”

 

“Yes,” Seongwoo gasped, eyes rolling in the back of his head.

 

"Pathetic," Jonghyun groaned, trying to split Seongwoo in two. "Pathetic sonofabitch..."

 

Seongwoo panted back insults at Jonghyun through clenched teeth as he came. Later, he did it to Jonghyun as hard as Jonghyun had done to him. Both of them saw each other that night. Both of them knew it would be the last time.

 

  
#

 

  
It was months later when he next heard from Seongwoo.

 

Two photos popped up in quick succession on Minhyun’s phone, followed by an _oops sorry wrong person. Hi._

 

Jonghyun felt petulant even though he knew that Seongwoo wasn’t a part of this anymore. “You’re getting texts so late at night.”

 

“It’s just Seongwoo.” Minhyun unlocked his phone to show Jonghyun, who hummed in thought. The pictures were of the biggest peach Jonghyun had ever seen, hanging low on a branch, and a sunset somewhere wide and open. “He’s at his uncle’s place in the country,” Minhyun said. “After his show got cancelled he decided to take a break.”

 

“Ah, so that’s where he is,” Jonghyun said, relieved.

 

“Don’t be jealous.”

 

“I’m not jealous,” Jonghyun said.

 

“Yes you are.” Minhyun said, covering Jonghyun’s mouth with his own. And that was that.

 

 

 

 


	3. how it actually started

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minhyun gets dumped. Lucky that Seongwoo is there.

 

 

 

His hand was on the shower control, preparing to warm the water, when a loud knock sounded as his door. Ignoring it would be so easy. Nobody could blame him if he did. Filming was done for the day, and the only person who could potentially want him was the driver, arriving half an hour earlier than they'd agreed. Filming in the boondocks was not his idea of a good time but there’d only be another week of this and then it would be indoor scenes in the studios back in Paju. At least he’d be in driving distance of a good nightclub.

  
Seongwoo wasn't sure what instinct made him turn around and trudge across the trailer, but he did. Whoever was out there knocked again before Seongwoo got there, so he was swearing under his breath when he opened it and—

  
Stared. Minhyun was standing right there, on one of the lower steps.

  
“Oh.” Seongwoo croaked, before his brain could get into gear. “I mean, uh, what’s up?”

  
Minhyun glanced around, almost as though he was making sure nobody could see him there. It was weird; there was no good reason he couldn't visit his co-star's trailer, but he did it anyway. Seongwoo didn't know what to make of that.

  
"Can I come in?” Minhyun asked, leaning closer. “Actually. Never mind. I’m—” and Minhyun covered his mouth with his hands and looked like he was going to panic.

  
“Hey, wait,” Seongwoo said, as Minhyun started to move away. “Come in, okay?”

  
Minhyun paused on the last step. His hands clenched at his sides for a moment before he nodded, as if to himself. When he turned back and walked up the steps, there was a look in his eyes as though he'd resigned himself to some kind of terrible fate.

  
Even if Seongwoo was a little bit bad, he didn’t like the idea of being a terrible fate.

  
Locking the door after Minhyun got inside seemed like a sensible precaution. If Minhyun wanted to talk, then someone bursting in just as he laid his innermost secrets on the line wasn't going to be good for anyone. Especially if what happened last night happened again right now.

  
Seongwoo moved over to the fridge, which was a nice safe distance from the beautiful and incredibly tempting sofa. “Can I get you something to drink? I've got a hundred bottles of water in my fridge. There might be a Coke in the back somewhere, maybe, but you don’t drink soda, right? I remember that from before.” Seongwoo was vaguely aware that he was babbling.

  
“This was a bad idea,” Minhyun said, retreating to the door.  
  
  
“You said that last night.” Seongwoo immediately wanted to clap a hand over his own mouth, but it was too late.

  
“True,” Minhyun said.

  
“Sorry.”

  
“No, I’m sorry. I don't know why I'm here.”

  
Seongwoo moved a step closer to Minhyun anyway. So much for not thinking with his dick. “Your now-ex-girlfriend found out you’re still in love with Kim Jonghyun. You’re messed up about it.”

  
Minhyun winced.

  
“And maybe you never loved her anyway.”

  
“I did,” Minhyun said, and sat down on the bench by the window. “I mean, I do. It’s a complex situation.”

  
“I get it,” Seongwoo said, thinking of a certain someone with a smile like a kid and a face like a ripe peach and an ass like a Greek god. He’d been in a should-we-shouldn’t-we with Kang Daniel ever since he became a star. “Jesus Christ do I get it.”

  
Seongwoo looked in his minifridge to see if there was anything left for the day. Lucky for them, there was a tiny bottle of vodka and another tiny bottle of whiskey.

  
He slammed the two tiny bottles down on the table in front of Minhyun. “Drink.”

  
“I don’t drink.”

  
“You deserve to. You just got dumped. You’re still in love with your ex. It hurts. So drink.”

  
Minhyun rubbed his face in one hand and took the tiny bottle of vodka with the other. He twisted off the top of the bottle and wet his lips, the pink tip of his tongue flickering out for a moment. His eyes dropped lower, and Seongwoo’s skin rose in goose bumps as he remembered that he was half-naked, which suddenly seemed a lot more important than it had a minute ago. Minhyun’s eyes widened when his gaze dropped lower.

  
“Are you sure about this?” Minhyun asked, when he eventually dragged his eyes back up to Seongwoo’s face. They were a couple of shades darker than usual and it made Seongwoo’s pulse speed up. “I didn’t come here for—you know.”

  
Seongwoo made a disbelieving sound, which brought a small, wry grin to Minhyun’s lips. It was a good look for him, Seongwoo realized. He’d liked it in the past. He still liked it now.

  
The decision wasn't that difficult.

  
He crossed the room in three quick strides, cupped Minhyun’s face between his hands, and kissed him. Warm air puffed over his cheek as Minhyun gave a startled grunt, but Seongwoo’s lips immediately moved against his, so it wasn't the bad kind of startled. Maybe Minhyun had expected to be the one initiating this. Too bad, Seongwoo was too turned on to wait until Minhyun got his shit together and made the first move.

  
He licked the seam of Minhyun's lips, and Minhyun opened immediately, allowing him in to taste and relearn the shape of his mouth. Seongwoo stroked his thumbs over Minhyun's cheeks slowly, carefully, and Minhyun's sharply indrawn breath was a perfect, unexpected reward. Maybe Minhyun hadn't expected the gentleness. Or maybe nobody had kissed him like this before, which Seongwoo didn't believe for a moment.

  
There was something strangely intimate about this, about kissing deep and filthy while barely touching each other and while sometimes thinking of all the other people they had been with. But the longer they kissed the more Seongwoo felt that it wasn’t so bad, wasn’t so bad at all to be kissing Minhyun, specifically. It felt like the kind of thing he could do for days.

  
Seongwoo didn't dare to think about “the next time”, even in his head.

  
Instead, he slid his hands down from Minhyun's jaw to rest on his hips and pull him closer. He broke the kiss, trailing his lips along smooth skin and down to the warm, soft flesh under Minhyun's ear. The shudder when he licked there went through his body as well.

  
That seemed to do something to Minhyun. Warm hands flattened against Seongwoo's naked back. He grunted in approval, just in case Minhyun needed the encouragement. Pretty sure that him jerking his hips against Minhyun's had probably done the job already, but better safe than sorry.

  
“We should move this somewhere more appropriate for lying down,” Seongwoo said.

  
Minhyun needed a couple of tries before he said, “Okay.”

  
Seongwoo walked them backwards, tugging Minhyun along by the hem of his sweater and refusing to stop nuzzling and licking at the hollow of Minhyun's throat. It was an effective method, apparently, because Minhyun followed easily and even allowed his hand to drift down to Seongwoo's ass. Sadly, his hand stayed firmly outside Seongwoo's pants, but hey. A guy couldn't have everything right away. Just because Minhyun was bold a few nights ago didn’t mean he couldn’t hover like a virgin now.

  
When Seongwoo’s legs hit the sofa, he only hesitated for a moment before turning and shoving Minhyun's chest so that he fell back. Minhyun blinked up at him, mouth open. Seongwoo plastered on the wickedest grin he could manage. Minhyun gulped.

  
“This okay?” Seongwoo asked.

  
“Okay,” Minhyun finally said.

  
It was a thrill to see Minhyun looking undone and thoroughly ruffled. Until now, Seongwoo hadn't realised how much he wanted to make Minhyun's impassive mask crack outside the film set. They both played doctors; Seongwoo impassioned and kind, Minhyun clinical and cruel. Years ago in a boy band far away, he had wielded the power to make Minhyun laugh. Now he had the power to make Minhyun come undone in an entirely different way.

  
The way Minhyun's eyes widened and his breath quickened when Seongwoo shucked out of his pants only made him feel more powerful. He allowed Minhyun to look for a long moment, feeling his cock harden impossibly more at the heated gaze, before dropping down to kneel between Minhyun's legs.

  
“Hi,” he said cheerfully. “Mind if I...?”

  
Minhyun smiled. “Do you always talk to people's body parts?”

  
“Only the ones I like,” Seongwoo said, tugging at Minhyun's waistband.

  
Minhyun lifted his hips to help. Seongwoo only got Minhyun’s pants down to his knees before he caved in and took Minhyun into his mouth. He heard the sharply indrawn breath and the skin under his lips twitched. Minhyun made little needy sounds each time. They were beautiful, perfect sounds.

  
He swallowed it down and lathed Minhyun full of spit, and pumped his hand in a wet fist up and down left hand on himself and right hand on Minhyun. Minhyun threw his head back and it thunked against the window of the trailer. He buried his face in his hands and his breath came through between his fingers. He was embarrassed. Somehow it made Seongwoo try harder. Minhyun was shuddering and panting and it was music to Seongwoo’s ears. Good. Good.

  
Seongwoo's orgasm hit him with unexpected power. It curled in his belly and leapt through his body like a team of hurdlers at the gun. His climax seemed to be all Minhyun needed to join him.

  
  
#

  
  
Seongwoo was still catching his breath and enjoying a really great post-orgasm glow when he heard his phone buzz. All he wanted to do was bask in the moment, let the world go fuck itself somewhere else.

  
“Should you get that?” Minhyun asked.

  
“No, it's probably—” Seongwoo broke off, suddenly going cold all over. “Shit.”

  
He scrambled off the sofa despite Minhyun's protests, landing awkwardly. His phone was on a table across the trailer. It buzzed again as he picked it up and read the message, swearing again.

  
“Minhyun, you need to get out,” he said. “Now.”

  
Unease filled Minhyun's voice when he said, “What?"

  
It almost seemed criminal to send Minhyun away now. His sweater was rucked up to his armpits, his pants had been pushed off one leg completely—Seongwoo didn't even remember doing that. He looked better than Seongwoo could ever remember, even in the most art directed album covers from ten years ago. His mouth was red and his hair was standing up in clumps, and Seongwoo desperately wanted to keep him there for the rest of the night just to watch him come again.

  
Really, if Minhyun kept visiting him under the guise of a shoulder to cry on Seongwoo would be in real trouble. As if he needed another emotionally unavailable A-lister in his life.

  
“My driver's here,” Seongwoo said. “If you really want to make sure no one knows we're doing this, you need to be out of here in the next thirty seconds. He's on his way over to find out why I wasn't waiting for him.”

  
Minhyun nodded curtly. He was upright, dressed, and smoothing down his hair faster than Seongwoo would have thought was possible. Of course he wouldn’t want to be found out. That was how the whole thing between him and Jonghyun had ended two years ago. Paparazzi stakeout at a hotel they’d visited. Scandal and hushup. Now he was here with Seongwoo in some attempt to reclaim some part of himself and maybe blow off some confused steam. Seongwoo got it. Sure, he was a little annoyed or hurt or something that Minhyun didn’t protest at all. But he got it.

  
Seongwoo was still digging out jeans and a clean shirt when Minhyun paused at the door.

  
“Seongwoo—I'm not...” he began before trailing away.

  
“Yeah, I know,” Seongwoo said. “Now go.”

  
And so Minhyun went.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I’m writing this for the aesthetics (and sexiness) alone.
> 
> This Ong2hyun was inspired by SeaNymph’s story “Waiting,” which is quite the love triangle epic of Minhyun being unable to choose between Jonghyun and Seongwoo. I wanted to play in that pairing as well so decided to smash them all together in a 10-years after angsty angst scenario.
> 
> This also plays within **The Sickness Unto Death** universe but doesn’t have to. Seongwoo is an actor of some note, and he and Minhyun play North Korean doctors. Seongwoo defects and tries to escape, Minhyun rats him out, and the drama gets cancelled before it can even air. Seongwoo gets calls in the middle of the night. It’s scary. He takes a sabbatical to his aunt’s place in the country. Gets away from the situation. Decides to invite Daniel to stay. Hm.
> 
>  **Time to write** : 2 hours 15 minutes  
>  _If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving kudos or a comment! It is every writer’s fuel.⛽️♥️_


	4. what happened back then

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s rewind the clock some more.

 

 

"Jonghyun," Minhyun said.

"Mm?" Jonghyun didn’t look around. He was in the middle of a game, wound up tight, shoulders hunched over his elbows and fingers gripped tightly around the controller. The TV flashed colors and light back, casting his face in an eerie glow.

"Jonghyun," Minhyun said again, and a hand came down on the controller, stopping the progress of the game.

"What?" Jonghyun said, looking up. He didn’t look irritated, like he had just a few hours ago; a home-cooked dinner and a few hours in front of the TV had finally relaxed him enough from his near run-in with the paparazzi staked outside Minhyun’s apartment complex. Minhyun sat down next to him and tilted his head so it lay on Jonghyun’s shoulder. After a while, he turned and pressed his lips to Jonghyun’s pulse. His breath curled against the side of Jonghyun’s neck, and then Jonghyun’s hand was on top of Minhyun’s on top of the controller and he nudged Minhyun’s nose with his nose and kissed him fierce and sharp. The edge from earlier had come back but now it was directed at Minhyun.

Minhyun felt a heat begin to boil low in his belly.

"Now," Jonghyun said.

"Yes." Minhyun paused for a moment, then set the controller on the coffee table and turned off the TV. Jonghyun’s fingers twined with his. The game could wait. "Yes, okay."

  
#

  
Minhyun knew when Jonghyun was on edge and this was one of those nights.

There was the usual internal fight going on, painted cleanly in his body language as Minhyun turned around and pulled Jonghyun close. It was a kind of symbolic struggle that Jonghyun needed to overcome each time before they did it. Just something to satisfy his own sense of propriety and boundaries and filial piety before he violated everything through and through.

Minhyun had no such complications. But it didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate them in Jonghyun and what it felt like to overcome them together. This was a familiar ritual: a back and forth that was more foreplay than actual foreplay. Minhyun would lean in, Jonghyun would disapprove, Minhyun would reassure, Jonghyun would relent.

Sometimes he’d even beg.

Tonight was one of those nights, and Minhyun couldn’t deny the thrill of seeing Jonghyun’s lips part silently, feeling that chest fluttering against his own. Something delicious about it that made Minhyun close his eyes. The abandon that Jonghyun would never let himself have during the day, surrendered here, surrendering now.

When they’d first gotten together Minhyun hadn’t known how to read the come-and-go for what it was. It was discouraging at first, but he realized that he only needed to open his understanding of Jonghyun and take the long-term view. The reluctance and the surrender were one and the same: all part of the story that was Kim Jonghyun. And hadn’t Minhyun said ever so long ago that he’d be there for as long as Kim Jonghyun would let him? The thought of that memory from so long ago still stirred him to full arousal. The way Jonghyun had surrendered then. The way he had looked, standing with the sunlight behind him, peeling off one piece of clothing at a time until he was bare before Minhyun.

 _Is this okay_ , he’d asked, instinctively holding his arms, holding himself together. And Minhyun had taken Jonghyun’s hands in his and spread his arms wide and they’d held each other like that until, until—

Minhyun fumbled at Jonghyun’s shirt, stripped it open and off, did the same for Jonghyun’s sweatpants, if a little slower. He pulled too hard and turned a loop into a knot. Stupid knot. Why couldn’t Jonghyun have worn something with a zipfly?

“Wait,” Jonghyun said, hands on Minhyun’s with a steely grip. Minhyun closed his eyes. When Jonghyun was like this, these were the unspoken rules: Minhyun’s hands strictly above his waist, Jonghyun naked from nose to navel and not an inch more. It just made Minhyun all the more inflamed.

“Are you sure?” He said, trying to keep his breathing under control.

Jonghyun tipped his head in a curt nod. Minhyun didn’t know if he did this out of some loyalty to modesty or if it was how he justified this to himself. But for whatever hypocritical puritanism Jonghyun intended, it only served to make things decidedly filthy as far as Minhyun was concerned. The way the waistband of Jonghyun’s sweatpants sat against his flat stomach was just short of pornographic. The less said about the way his hands balled at his sides in an effort to keep control, the better.

And Jonghyun’s face right now—red, flushed, lips quivering, trying to be stoic—

Jonghyun’s lips parted in a sigh, a triangle of shadow appearing from the pink, and Minhyun’s tongue found his way in. He tasted salt and the tang of blood from the inside of his cheek, recently bitten. Jonghyun’s hands curved around Minhyun’s shoulders, light and chaste.

Minhyun led them to his bed in shuffling, stumbling increments. They both stood there for a moment, Minhyun hesitant because this was always the moment he wanted to drop to his knees and bury his face in between Jonghyun’s legs.

Then Jonghyun slouched down onto the duvet, glaring sullenly up at Minhyun like this was his fault and would he just get on with it already.

"Don't look at me like that," Minhyun said. "You were the one who started this." He leaned over and licked at Jonghyun’s mouth, just in case he thought he might be serious.

Jonghyun bit back and tore at the zipper of Minhyun’s pants. The way he was squeezing and pulling just so, and the way he was hunched over, Minhyun could see all the muscles in his shoulder and back shifting under his skin. And suddenly Minhyun wanted something different. He didn’t want Jonghyun to finish him without being able to return the favor.

"Oh," Minhyun managed, and grabbed Jonghyun’s shoulder to keep himself upright. Jonghyun ignored him in favor of inspecting the mess Minhyun had just made of his hand. "Oh. Oh."

"On edge, Minhyun," Jonghyun said, watching Minhyun tuck himself in while he wiped his hand off with a tissue. He threw the wad of tissue at the wastebasket by the door and made it, leveling a little whoop of pleasure.

"Well, not so much now," Minhyun said, once his heart rate evened out. He moved so he had both hands on Jonghyun’s shoulders, leaning in to drop a kiss on his nose.

Jonghyun sniffed indignantly. "Let me up."

Minhyun pushed him onto his back instead, dodging the knee to his groin like the pro he was. "It's your turn," he said, nuzzling at his throat. Jonghyun surged up against his hands.

"Don't need to,” he mumbled.

Minhyun poked him in the ribs. He was rewarded with a sharp inhale and the sudden rise of Jonghyun’s chest, the strain of whipcord muscle over his shoulders, the tensed sinew of his neck. There was barely a skim of fat on him; Jonghyun was all lean alley-dog, wiry, resilient.

"You’re beautiful," Minhyun said. He felt his cheeks heat at the wondering envy in his voice, and because they just didn’t say that kind of thing to each other.

A slow flush trickled down Jonghyun’s neck, fanning across his chest. He muttered something about Minhyun’s sentimentality.

"And so I am," Minhyun wet his lips. "I like to touch you," Minhyun told him, experimentally. He rubbed his hand slowly back and forth over Jonghyun’s chest, up his neck. He was very warm to the touch, sweating. "I wish you would let me. You know. More."

"Maybe," Jonghyun said, a verbal reflex that was starting to sound nothing more than conversational to Minhyun.

"I want to touch you," Minhyun continued, mouth still at Jonghyun’s ear. Minhyun was glad Jonghyun couldn’t see his face like this because he couldn’t remember feeling so simultaneously embarrassed and turned on, and he was sure there was nothing sexy about his beet-red, greedy expression. "I want to know what you like.“

“There’s nothing I like that much,” Jonghyun lied.

"I'm not sure that's the truth, Jonghyunnie." Minhyun stroked his thumb down the inside of Jonghyun’s arm; his skin is soft there, too. So many soft spots for such a closed off person. “Don’t you like touching me, too? To have me in your hands like that, at your mercy?"

Jonghyun shuddered at his words. It emboldened Minhyun.

"Don't you get off on getting me off?"

"Don’t say things like that," Jonghyun swallowed with some difficulty.

"Don’t change the subject,” Minhyun said, and found the juncture of Jonghyun’s neck and shoulder and sucked hard.

Jonghyun whined, rough and short in the back of his throat. Minhyun was pretty sure he didn't mean to, which was like discovering a whole new continent. Maybe he should call Jonghyun on his bullshitting more often.

"You know what else I think? I think..." Minhyun paused, catching his tongue. Some self-consciousness kicked in and he was keenly aware of how they looked, how he looked, red and flustered and ridiculous.

Jonghyun turned his head like he wanted to gauge Minhyun’s expression. His mouth brushed Minhyun’s ear.

What did he think? He hadn’t let himself ponder much about this not-quite-mutual not-always-gratifying arrangement they'd gotten themselves into, what with it short-circuiting his brain if he dwelled on it too long. Minhyun wasn’t sure if the cause as pure lust or sheer terror of what would happen if he looked too closely at this.

"Don’t think so much," Jonghyun whispered, one arm looping over Minhyun’s shoulders and digging his fingers into the muscle there.

That was an explicit invitation if Minhyun ever heard Jonghyun offer one. When they parted, Minhyun was breathless. "Why do you always make me wait for this?"

"That's what you think?" Jonghyun said, between clipped breaths and another rough assault on Minhyun’s mouth. "I’m not that calculating.”

Minhyun wanted to ask, wanted to ask if Jonghyun would be back tomorrow or if he’d just disappear again, if he’d call, if he’d be okay, if he actually loved Minhyun, but he kept his questions to himself and buried his face in Jonghyun’s neck again. Whatever this was, whatever it would be, it was worth it.

Jonghyun opened his mouth, and whatever question or condemnation he was was about to give voice to was muted as Minhyun slid two fingers onto his tongue. Minhyun braced himself for pain, but there was no sharp sting of teeth, only the undulation of Jonghyun’s tongue under his fingertips and of his body under Minhyun’s weight, and a tiny, muffled groan.

"Damn," Minhyun whispered. Jonghyun breathed heavily around Minhyun’s fingers as he drew them out slowly, stroking at his lower lip and then sliding them back inside. "What you do to me."

A fist bunched in the side of Minhyun’s shirt; Jonghyun closed his mouth around Minhyun’s fingers and sucked, hard. Minhyun jerked, thighs tensing, and suddenly he needed some pressure and friction and to explain in vivid, explicit detail just exactly what it is he wanted Jonghyun to do to him.

"I want you inside me," he said, which was close enough.

Jonghyun spat out his fingers, apparently so he could look suitably pole-axed.

"So badly," Minhyun said, and grinned down at him; he felt a touch manic. "I've been waiting."

Jonghyun grimaced, teeth gritting at the audacity of it all. "I. What..." He trailed off, and Minhyun decided to save him the embarrassment of trying to articulate... well, anything right now.

"I used to think about it. A lot, me and you, after practice one night." Minhyun leaned in so they were pressed chest-to-chest, and he was talking close to Jonghyun’s ear. He could feel the thud of Jonghyun’s heartbeat; the fist loosening and sliding tentatively under his shirt. "Maybe, we'd... um. It would start in the studio, or maybe the dorms. Everyone else gone. You'd probably be pissed at me for something. I messed up my steps. Maybe I tried to feed you tomatoes."

A snort from Jonghyun, and a minor shift of his hips that sent Minhyun a little crazy. Crazier. Whatever.

"So you'd be a little rough with me, pull my shirt off without much care, right? And you wouldn't let me touch you. You're—you'd be in charge." Minhyun paused for a moment, thought about where he was going with this. But he couldn’t believe he was saying all these things out loud. Giving voice to this well-worn fantasy. "You'd push me down, over the, the couch, or the kitchen table, and—"

"And then," Jonghyun said, explosive gust of breath, "...here. Like this." His hand grasped Minhyun’s hip, pulling him down against him and making Minhyun splay his knees to accommodate, a visceral suggestion of how it would be.

"You've thought about it?" Minhyun said, once he got the dizzying cocktail of relief, surprise and lust under control, and had kind of nearly managed to process the fact that his dick was pressed hard against the tight muscle of Jonghyun’s belly. "About being together—like that?"

If Jonghyun’s silence at that wasn't enough, the solid red flush painting his lower face and neck was more than damning.

"Me on top, huh?" Minhyun grinned, sat up, stretched his arms above his head. He knew his shirt was sticking to him, that it was riding up at the bottom, and he knew that Jonghyun was looking at him. He wasn’t vain but he knew how he looked. He inhaled, rolled his shoulders, felt the muscles bunch and tighten. Every part of him hummed. He couldn’t even tell how hard he was any more. "Letting me do all the work?"

Jonghyun made a noise; Minhyun could tell his teeth were clenched behind tight-pressed lips. He had no idea if it was affirmation or denial or amusement, but it lost its importance when Jonghyun suddenly arched under him. Jonghyun’s breath came in short bursts through his nose, like he was angry.

Minhyun knew he wasn’t angry.

"Really? You'd just lie there while I—" He leaned forward, mostly because Jonghyun grabbed at his shirt again, but also so he could get a little more pressure where he needed it. Caught between his thighs, Jonghyun’s body was spasming in hard waves and Minhyun hadn’t even touched him, not there, "While we—oh god, Jonghyun."

Jonghyun brought his shoulders off the bed, pressed his forehead against Minhyun’s, who curled an arm around him, holding him steady and close while he inhaled and shuddered and tried to pretend that he wasn’t coming.

"—Jonghyun," Minhyun whispered. Jonghyun moaned under his breath at that, a true and honest sound, and then Minhyun was following, any thought shattered and spun away when he felt Jonghyun’s hand close over him through his pants, felt himself pulse under that firm grip.

He rolled off onto his side, tilting his hips into Jonghyun’s hand.

"Dirty," Jonghyun muttered, but he kept stroking anyway. "You should be ashamed of yourself."

"I am," Minhyun said, languid. He felt like he could purr. "As ashamed as a very ashamed thing."

"You don’t sound very sorry." Jonghyun squeezed hard, just when things were starting to get on the wrong side of sensitive. There was something about the way Jonghyun spoke that made Minhyun feel like he’d been put through a juicer. But before he could reply, Jonghyun stood up. "I’m going to use the shower," he said in a low voice, and staggered off to the bathroom.

Minhyun lay where he was for a moment, then decided he’d join. It was his shower, after all. He was feeling lightheaded, conscious that Jonghyun’s words might not have been an invitation but not intimidated enough to care. It’d been weeks since they’d touched each other like this, months since Jonghyun had let himself look at Minhyun with a tenderness and fondness, without fear of being found out.

He shed his clothing and stuffed the whole mess in the washer down the hall. Then he padded to the bathroom, where the steam from the shower was already running hot. Behind the shower door, Jonghyun stood in the stream with his eyes closed. He looked ten years younger.

Minhyun stood like that and watched him. He knew that Jonghyun knew he was there and yet Jonghyun made no move. In his heart Minhyun felt something deep twist itself into a tight knot. He let it twist upon itself until it finally tired itself out, and then opened the shower door.

 

 


End file.
